


On the receiving end, or, Probably not what Mr. Bell envisioned

by commatme



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, phone sex but not actually phone sex, should this be tagged as voyeurism? i have no idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 02:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19736113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commatme/pseuds/commatme
Summary: Danny gives him a wicked, lazy grin and latches onto Steve’s skin again. Steve is so shocked he almost misses Harry’s, “Hello, Steve. How are things?”





	On the receiving end, or, Probably not what Mr. Bell envisioned

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this Tumblr post](https://confessions-of-a-shipperholic.tumblr.com/post/186060783411/steve-is-lying-on-his-bed-when-his-phone-rings-he) from a few days ago by [confessions-of-a-shipperholic](https://confessions-of-a-shipperholic.tumblr.com/), which reads: _Steve is lying on his bed when his phone rings. He answers slowly, breathily, trying to form full sentences as Danny presses hot open-mouthed kisses down this abs_. It was tagged as “SOMEONE WRITE THIS FOR ME PLEASE”, so I took the liberty.
> 
> The Mr. Bell referenced in the title is Alexander Graham Bell, who is often credited as the inventor of the telephone (which is frequently disputed, I know, but there was no way to incorporate all that historical drama in six words).

The ringtone sounds shrill and overly loud. It convinces Danny to raise his head and take his lips and tongue and teeth away from Steve’s collarbone, for which Steve hates it. He sighs, stubbornly refuses to sit up, and is reduced to groping around on his nightstand blindly until Danny grabs the phone and folds his fingers around it.

He peers up at the screen, and he’s both relieved and annoyed to find that the interruption is not work, or at the very least not officially. “It’s Harry,” he tells Danny.

Danny is still hovering over him on hands and knees, clad only in his underwear. “Langford?”

“Yeah.”

“Could be important.”

Steve allows himself another sigh. So much for their uninterrupted evening – this is what he gets for not putting everything but calls from the Governor on silent. 

“Yeah,” he admits, reluctantly. He presses accept and attempts to scoot out from under Danny to sit up, but Danny won’t let him, putting a heavy hand on his shoulder to keep him where he is. “Hi,” Steve says into the receiver, stuck propped up on one elbow and frowning at Danny.

Danny gives him a wicked, lazy grin and latches onto Steve’s skin again. He skips the collar bone, apparently deciding he’s done all he wants there, and instead makes quick work of kissing Steve’s nipples before sliding his lips lower, setting up a meandering trajectory south. Steve is so shocked he almost misses Harry’s, “Hello, Steve. How are things?”

“Oh, you know,” Steve says. It’s a lie, because in that moment even _he_ doesn’t know – he can’t tear his eyes away from Danny’s blond head moving further and further down, pausing once in a while to lavish a seemingly random spot with some extra attention. Steve’s whole chest feels sensitized and hot even before Danny meticulously traces the ridges of his abs with his tongue. He grows aware that he’s let a silence lapse and his face grows hot, too, so he says the first thing that springs to mind. “Same old.”

Danny bites him for that, in the skin just below his right rib. He very nearly yelps, but it’s reduced to a hitch in his breath through willpower and sheer luck.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Harry asks.

“Oh, no,” he says, again without thinking, because he’s having a _great_ time. God, he needs to get a grip. “How are you?” Maybe getting Harry to talk will aid in distracting from the fact that Danny is starting to ruck his boxers down in tiny increments at a time, because he’s reached the elastic and needs more room to work. Danny does something to Steve’s left hip that makes him shudder and is probably going to leave a mark – the kind he can press his thumb into tomorrow, in the shower, when he’s alone but still thinking about this. If he hadn’t already been rock hard, he would’ve been now.

Harry has been talking and Steve hasn’t listened to a single word he said. He hums and hopes to God that’s the right response, because Danny is getting rid of both their underwear completely now, and Steve is having trouble keeping his breathing even, let alone stringing together a sentence.

“Roll over,” Danny mouths. With everything that’s fighting for his attention, Steve doesn’t immediately decipher those instructions, but by the time he figures it out he’s already on his stomach, Danny having prodded him into taking the correct action. He wriggles a little. His cock is trapped against the mattress and he’s not ashamed to take advantage of the friction. He has to make it worth the wet spot and having to clean the sheets after this.

Danny doesn’t let him enjoy his freedom for long – he wraps his hands around Steve’s hips to encourage Steve to get his knees under him. Once Steve’s ass is in the air, the hands move to cup his ass, as if to hold him still, so Steve stills further in anticipation. The expected fingers or cock never come. Instead, there’s a softer, warmer, wetter pressure when Danny spreads him open and licks him, his tongue flattening in a long, slow movement over Steve’s hole.

Feeling wild and like he’s hanging on by a thread, Steve grabs the nearest pillow, drags it over and bites down.

Harry’s voice drifts back into his awareness. “-would be a good idea. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Right now, with Danny stroking over and around him and dipping just inside, Steve would agree to sign over every last penny he has to his name if asked politely. He turns his head enough that his voice isn’t muffled by the pillow. “Yup,” he grinds out, trying to sound light and breezy and probably hitting constipated instead.

“Interesting. Are you sure you’re alright there, chap?” There’s an undercurrent of amusement in Harry’s voice, which jumps out at Steve because it sets alarm bells ringing in his head. He draws on everything he knows about keeping cool under pressure or resisting torture, but nothing ever prepared him for situations where he was under threat of coming his brains out. 

He regulates his breathing carefully. At least his training is halfway useful there. “I’m fine,” he blurts. His voice is pretty even; a little breathy, but he’s doing alright. The problem is finding words at all – other than “oh God, Danny, yes” that is. “Just peachy,” he adds, on a whim.

Danny pinches his ass, like he agrees.

“That’s wonderful,” Harry says grandly. “Say hi to Danny for me, will you?”

Steve is on the verge of saying yes when he realizes that oh God, what- “Why?”

“Well, as I recall, you’re pretty much attached at the hip, aren’t you?” 

Ha, Steve thinks. It’s not their hips that are attached now. Harry knows nothing. 

Maybe.

“Right,” he manages, only panting a little bit.

“Great,” Harry says, and there’s that amusement again. “Talk to you later, pal. Cheers.”

There’s a beep and it takes Steve a moment of trying not to gasp to realize that it’s the sound of the line blessedly disconnecting. He drops the phone like a hot potato and luxuriates in his newfound freedom to let go of the moan that’s been pushing at him all this time – deep, wanton, and it feels like a pressure on his chest lifts. He can breathe as raggedly as he wants, keen a little, and switch things up with a whimper.

This last seems to be what earns him one of Danny’s hands walking around to his front, wrapping his neglected cock in hot, hot, friction-

He shouts when he comes, just because he can.

When he resurfaces from his endorphin haze enough to consider Danny, he’s flat on his back, like he started. He managed to avoid collapsing in the huge wet circle on his side of the mattress, but there’s something digging into his shoulder. He excavates his own phone. He resists the urge to carelessly sling it across the room, conscious of the fact that programming a new phone is a pain, so instead he puts it back on the nightstand, where it came from, out of sight and almost out of mind.

He turns to Danny, who has settled down next to him and is watching him, waiting. Steve offers up a hand and Danny’s wet, pink lips and tongue slick up his palm, giving him a front row view of what Danny must have looked like eating his ass. He wraps his hand around Danny’s cock, but he doesn’t need to do much, because Danny starts rubbing himself off. He grabs Steve’s wrist to hold it steady, folds his other hand around Steve’s to get him to tighten his grip, and then he’s coming, between one thrust and the next, spilling white and sticky between Steve’s fingers. After what just happened, Danny’s climax is almost hilariously quiet.

Steve wipes his hand on the sheet next to the already wet spot and settles back down. “God, Danny,” he tells the ceiling, because someone has to say it.

Danny spreads out on the side of the bed they now share, which involves slinging an arm across Steve’s chest. He brushes his lips over the curve of Steve’s shoulder briefly, unapologetic to the end. “Hey, I’m very orally fixated. Had to give my mouth _something_ to do while you were busy talking to someone else.”

“Ever consider chewing gum?”

Danny gives an amused huff that signals he thinks that’s too ridiculous to warrant a response, which it kind of is.

“Harry, uh- Harry says hi.” Harry said other, more worrying things, but Steve suspects Danny knows about those anyway.

“How very thoughtful of him.”

Steve’s still stuck on who knows what, and how hopeless he was at concealing anything. The proud, ambitious part of him thinks he could do better. “You wouldn’t have done that if it had been the Governor.” He asserts this with complete confidence, like a fact, but then he has to lift his head and squint at Danny. “Right?”

“It wasn’t the Governor,” Danny says, reassuring on the surface, but innocently evading the question underneath.

Steve lies back down. He thinks it’s a shame that he’s so bad at remembering to put his phone on silent. A real shame. Definitely.


End file.
